There was a blue mustang convertible parked in front of my house on Friday morning. And I was headed to wine country.
There is truly something to be said for flying down the highway under the hot summer sun. Mustang convertible, top down, 85 degrees outside and Foo Fighters Everlong playing on the radio. It kind of feels like freedom and fun.
This week I’m hurling some winecones at the lack of time in a day. There is so much to do and never enough time to do it. I’ve got all kinds of blogs to write and books to pitch. I’ve got a job with plenty to do (that’s a good thing, but still takes time). There are kids to love and pups to pet. And inevitably, that laundry pile will eventually best me.
What are the chances that winecone will magically turn into a clean-clothes folding elf? I’d gladly reward Doby with all the mismatched socks if he’d only help me put that pile away.
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To the (hopefully well-meaning) employee at the store we attended earlier today, I’m sending a big sarcastic “thank you” along with a giant unapologetic winecone. I mean, who in their right mind would stop their work to walk over to a crying two year old, who is receiving the “we don’t throw produce” conversation (again), in order to empathize with the tired child and say, “I’m tired too. Maybe we should have some quiet time with some ice cream.”? Seriously, in what world is that okay?
Editor’s note: There is a time and place to play the hero. An ice cream winecone at this ill-advised maneuver to appease a cranky 2-year-old. May he be forced to catch the flying frozen treat. And clean up after the sugar rampage.
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God, I want to smack the blowhard in my office. He totally makes everything about him and has an ego the size of a small elephant. Conference rooms actually get full when the two of them walk in together.
Editor’s note: A spikey winecone. It can’t miss an ego that big. May it puncture all that hot air and send him spinning around like a popped balloon.
Wine. Wine tasting. And Seduction – it does give me ideas. Oh get your minds out of the gutter. It’s a Bordeaux blend from the O’Brien Estate Winery in Napa – and it was my favorite from the weekend.
And, of course, a huge smackaroo to Mustang convertibles. WANT! So very much. Someday I will have one. Until then, dare to dream…
‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!
*Leave your Winecones in the comments or email us at anervousticmotion1@gmail.com or tricia@streamoftheconscious.com and we’ll add yours next week!
PS. This your first wineconing? Welcome. Grab a glass and click here for an explanation of what in name of Jeebus’ we’re talking about.
Can I throw a winecone at my knees? They really freaking let me down, and right when I was getting all amped about my Tough-Mudder training. (google it). Or just throw the winecone at all of heredity, because it’s heredity’s fault that I have shitty joints. Yeahhh, SUCK IT, heredity!
(did I do that right?)
Tough mudder = you’re nuts. Clearly need more wine.
Thank you for sending my winecone! I feel better about the situation already. Actually, in my world of toddler, potty training, packing to move and trying to secure a house before our scheduled departure date, I forgot, but now I remember, and I feel so much better! One bushel of smackaroos to you, Tricia!